


leaning against the wall

by Knightblazer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas/Dean Unrequited Love, Episode Related, Episode: s06e17 My Heart Will Go On, Gen, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-14
Updated: 2011-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-26 02:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knightblazer/pseuds/Knightblazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At times, Balthazar can't help but wonder about his friend. Set after 6.17 'My Heart Will Go On'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	leaning against the wall

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this on a whim, mostly since I needed something for today's NaNoWriMo count due to the fact that monsoon season and flu bug is not letting me brain anything useful for my fic projects. =_= A rather weird semi-introspective piece thing here, so uh... yeah. IDK either.

Balthazar’s always liked to call himself something of an opportunist; he likes to take his chances where he can afford them, pick his battles when he can. Sure, he’s as much of a soldier as just about any other angel in Heaven would (and should) be, but _really_ —after countless years of repeating the same cycle of patrol-watch-keep over and over again? Even with all of his own infinite patience, Balthazar _does_ get dreadfully bored about it eventually.

Still, even then, the end of the world is something that Balthazar does not like to happen regardless of any reason whatsoever, much less being one of those to make it happen. He’s always prided himself to be a bit of a scoop—there’s a reason why he’s the ideal scout, after all—so at the moment he discovers what the higher-ups (Zachariah in particular, Balthazar’s always thought he had something grubby up those too-tailored sleeves of his) are up to Balthazar only takes a moment to make his decision and flees, his desertion nicely covered up by all the racket that Uriel and his idiots are causing amongst the garrison.

Discovering that Uriel is in league with Lucifer brings a fair amount of pain to Balthazar’s heart—the angel had been one of his better companions, once upon a time. But times have changed, and all of them have changed, too. Anael has Fallen, Uriel has twisted his faith around and Castiel—Castiel has turned into the cold, emotionless solider that Heaven so liked to deploy, the perfect commander to take up the mantle ever since Anael’s desertion.

Really, it’s mostly Cassie that makes Balthazar hesitate on his decision, but he knows that his staying will not help in matters, and even if he did stay it would only be a matter of time before he would regret his decision. So he flees under the chaos that Uriel had wrought amongst the Host, faking his own death and fleeing, wanting to do nothing more but to hide and wait until the storm—or well, the world—blew over, more or less. Then again, the world was ending; he supposed going around and banging a few gongs wouldn’t hurt anything as well.

Then the end of the end of the world happened, and—yeah, okay, Balthazar has to admit; the pure chaos that erupted in Heaven did amuse him quite a bit. Heaven would always be his home, yes, but he had no real love for it—not for the perfect, silent coldness that it gives. As the humans always said a house would always be just a house, and nothing more. For all the things that humans did, at times they did tend to say some surprising things. Balthazar supposes it’s due to the soul thing they have going on, although he wonders what Dad had been drinking when he made that happen; most probably it had been some low-quality alcohol like beer.

Or maybe even something worse than that, once he finally lays his eyes on the one and only _Dean Winchester_ , aka the Righteous Man. AKA the human who Castiel died twice for.

Oh, the irony of it all is certainly not lost on Balthazar—for all the things that could have shaken and changed Castiel’s faith, it turned out to be this… human who wasn’t even the purest definition of a human. In fact, if Balthazar hadn’t been so kind he would have been more inclined to describe Dean as one of the lowest kinds of humans he had seen, and that was saying something. No human—not even the all-holy, fabled Righteous Man—should be having an angel going at his every beck and call, trying him down with his meagre human distractions and whining and all that whatnot.

But still, there was his brother, his _friend_ , all but bending for him the moment they meet again, softening where he shouldn’t, distracted when he should be focused. Dean Winchester, Balthazar notes, just has a way of constantly getting into Castiel’s skin and then _staying_ there, refusing to budge an inch and instead leeching onto him without ever letting go. He’s seen it from the moment Castiel found him again, and it only grows stronger with each passing day and moment. He is concerned, of course, but at the same time he’s not one to randomly pry his nose into businesses that isn’t his; as long as it doesn’t affect Castiel, he is alright with it.

There is a line still drawn, however, and Castiel has just crossed it as clear as day.

Balthazar’s pretty certain now that he has to start worrying, because if he doesn’t then nobody else would.

He confronts Castiel when the other arrives back at their meeting point, Castiel looking weary and exhausted—as he always would be after having confronted Dean Winchester. Balthazar can sense the subtle annoyance radiating off his friend’s form, the furrow of his eyebrows that displayed his irritation and the set of his jaw that showed his displeasure. He is irritated, and most people would think twice before approaching him. Balthazar isn’t most people, however.

“Cassie,” he starts, once Castiel is close enough to him. Castiel gives him a glance in response, but says nothing else and only keeps on moving. Wary of his frustration the other angels under his command scatter, but Balthazar stays close and continues to speak, even though he knows that the words are not to Castiel’s liking; his friend still has to listen, regardless. “You should have just ignored Atropos and proceeded with the plan.”

Castiel’s jaw instantly shifts—another display of disagreement—but Balthazar presses on, relentless. “Granted, they’re the vessels of Michael and Lucifer, but they’re still just humans in the end. Were you really so willing to stop everything just so that they could live?”

The other angel stops there and then, pausing to turn around and send a brief glare at Balthazar, although that isn’t enough to make him pause; but he does stop speaking, if only because Castiel is speaking up now. “There was no point in continuing—the Fate sisters would have been interfering nevertheless.”

It’s a lie and both of them know it, and Balthazar can’t help but let the corners of his lips twist into an unhappy frown. “Cassie,” he starts, his voice clipped and curt because _really_ , Castiel does need to stop being an idiot and let his emotions get the better of him. Granted, that was partly the reason why the Apocalypse didn’t happen, but at the same time its interfering with his abilities as a commander now; Castiel should not let his emotions for the Winchesters—particularly one of them—get in his way.

“Balthazar,” is what Castiel returns, his voice equally curt, and Balthazar knows it’s a lost cause for today as well when his friend turns back. “There will be other ways for us to win over Raphael. We will try something else.”

Balthazar can only shake his head then, sighing out loud as he watches Castiel vanishing into the distance. He isn’t blind—he knows exactly what his friend feels for Dean Winchester, what he longs for but does not dare to reach out for. He had died for the human and fought for said human and a part of him suspects that Castiel might be doing all of this—pitting himself against Raphael—just for him, too. If only Dean Winchester knew just how much of _too much_ goodness he was getting now, maybe he would start to see some sense through that thick skull of his. Then again, humans always had a way of being unreasonably thick-headed; something that Castiel, apparently, had acquired as well.

As much as he does appreciate Castiel’s newfound hard-headedness, there are times when Balthazar still thinks back to their earlier days, when Castiel had still be young and wide-eyed at the world, entranced by the simplest things like snow and rain and sun. He remembers the time when Castiel had first set foot upon Earth and had been enraptured by the snow that had been falling then—Anael had been laughing and dancing with Uriel quietly watching, and Balthazar himself prodding fun at Castiel’s fascination. Back then, things had been so much simpler, so much easier. Back then, that had been what happiness was to Balthazar, to all of them.

But, once again—times had changed. Circumstances had changed and he had changed, too, and so did Castiel.

 _Not all for the best, too,_ Balthazar muses to himself as he starts to walk again, following the footsteps that Castiel left behind as he slowly starts to catch up with the other angel going ahead. Both of them have changed, and as much as Balthazar might want to they can’t just go back to the past and twist things around—so he would take what he can get now, and hopefully lead his friend back to the proper path, a path where Castiel could go about his things without needing Dean Winchester to be the justification for his every action and existence.

“Cassie!” he calls out once he’s in reach and smiles charmingly as he slings one arm around his friend’s shoulders.

Castiel, of course, only furrows his eyebrows in confusion and looks over at him. “What is it, Balthazar?”

“You should take a break,” he returns smoothly, smiling wider at the confused look that Castiel sends back over. “I mean all this hoo-haa with Atropos and all that has worn you out—might as well take a break and enjoy the better stuff that humans have made, hrm?”

The other angel gives him a look that lasts for a few moments before he squeezes his eyes shut and nods, once, almost reluctantly. “I suppose; you will not stop until I do, anyway.” A means of defeat, even if it is sort-of roundabout, but it’s still a victory for Balthazar and he grins back in return, already stepping back and readying his fingers.

“A relaxing dinner for two, coming right up,” Balthazar says with a smile before snapping his fingers, and the two angels vanish in moments, leaving nothing else but fading footsteps.


End file.
